Page 8 of Covert Affair

Lawrence pulls up a chair and directs me to sit. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. Ridiculous.

“You need all of that, to clean up?” I look at the bag of gadgets he’s rolled out across the bathroom counter.

“Oh, yes. When I’m done with you, there will not be a hair out of place.”

I blink slowly. “I didn’t agree to this. I can clean up my own face.”

“Nonsense. You’re making your red carpet debut tonight. Let the professional handle it.”

“I’m not winning this one, am I?”

“No, sir.”

Accepting my fate, I let Lawrence do his thing with strict instructions that we are not shaving off my beard, or cutting my hair. Lucky for him, he has enough sense to agree. While he works, I text Cole.

Cody: I’m taking a long, paid, vacation when I get back. You owe me big time for this.

His reply is instant.

Cole: Come on. I know Stacey’s not that bad. Is she?

Cody: I’m surrounded by mostly women, glittery makeup and God knows what else. I’d tell you what they’re doing right now, but you’ll never let me live it down. I hate you.

Cole sends back a laughing emoji, and I respond with a middle finger before pocketing my phone.

By the time Lawrence is done with me, I feel like I’ve been poked, prodded, plucked and buffed to a shine. He’s put some kind of crème in my beard that smells woodsy and masculine, but also makes it look amazing. I have no damn clue what he did to my hair that’s so special, it seems the same to me, but comes with a guarantee that it will not fall flat before the night is over.

“Now you need a little powder; then you’re all set.”

“I need what?” I wrinkle my brow.

“You’re going to be under harsh lights tonight, the last thing you’re going to want people to see is your shiny forehead.”

I shoot Lawrence a glare. “I’m not wearing makeup.”

“Don’t think of it like makeup. All the celebs do it,” he defends.

“Listen, man. In case you haven’t realized it yet, I’m not a celebrity.”

“Tonight you are. Let your inner goddess shine.”

“Yeah, we’re done here,” I pull the cape off my chest and stand. “Appreciate the hard work. You’re free to go.”

Exiting the bathroom, I freeze in my tracks. Stacey is standing in the middle of the room dressed in a pale sequined off the shoulder number. The split on the side runs damn near to the top of her creamy thigh, and the bust line enhances her ample cleavage. Her jewelry, while understated, provides the perfect accents and still likely cost more than my first house.

Have I mentioned that I am way out of my element here?

“Oof.” Lawrence slams into the back of me, and I nearly fall forward. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to stop so….well hello darling!” He squeals. “Stacey, that gown looks fab on you dear! All the boys are going to eat their hearts out tonight!”

“Jesus.” I groan.

“Time for you to get dressed, pretty boy,” Carey laughs and holds up a garment bag.

“I’ve got my…” I start.

“Cody, so help me God, if you say you brought your own suit, I may have to slaughter you.” Carey pinches the bridge of her nose. “He’s hopeless.”

“For goodness sake, let me see what you’ve got,” I concede.

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